Page 24 of Safe in Shadow
NYX WATCHED FROM THElibrary window, mouth open as he realized he was a fucking idiot.
After last night—after revealing his name, he’d thought... Well, that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? Had he really thought?
No. He’d just wanted to do something kind.
The thought left him numb, a carefully crafted kind of numb where he didn’t allow himself to think about his motives or visualize what came next.
She had been intimate with him. She was working hard, and her being there was... Nice. Better than nice. It was changing him, somehow, a little at a time, making him more human. Even now, he was in a humanoid shape, a shadowy mass with clear limbs, a head, and even a mouth currently gaping as he watched Grace, his beautiful sunflower, walking reluctantly toward the woods that held so many secrets.
Bad secrets. Secrets of a being worse than him.
“No!”
GRACE TURNED, HER PHONEup to her ear, as the windows in the library rattled and a dark stain seemed to move past the lace curtains so recently hung. Her sneakers skidded on the thickcarpet of leaves that had been decomposing, turning to mulch and wet, chunky soil for decades.
“911, what is your emergency?”
“I think someone’s in my house,” she whispered.
“Address, please?”
“Hilltop House,” Grace began, and the dark shape moved again, catching her eye. This time, it was in the next room, the unfinished back parlor that would one day be a nice lounge for guests to play games and cards. The windows in there were still grubby with age and dust, but one thing at a time.
“Hilltop House? Pine Ridge?”
“That’s the one,” Grace whispered, watching lines appear on the dusty windows.
N
“Oh, God.”
“Miss, are you safe? Are you in the home with the intruder?”
“I’m outside.
Y
“X.” Grace sank into a squat as she said the final letter, speaking as it was drawn by the shadow inside.
She closed her eyes as the dispatcher spoke, muscle memory and burning thighs reminding her that maybe it wasn’t a dream. Not all of it.
The feel of delicious pressure inside of her, of long limbs encircling her, touching her everywhere.
Her pussy clamped down without respect to the situation. It only remembered the pleasure, the aching build, and the satisfying release. Not some little half-assed not-quite orgasm, but the kind that made you curse like a sailor and dream about being face down on your bed so it could happen again, only harder.
I’m a freak to think about this now.
“Miss? Don’t go in the house! Someone is on their way. The police are en route.”
“I’m outside,” Grace breathed, rising and walking towards the woods with slow, faltering steps.
The closer she got—the more the windows rattled. Curtains waved. The front door, left hanging open, slammed open and shut like it was caught in a hurricane blast.
She stopped, face puzzled, and walked back towards her car. Just a little.
Everything was silent.
“Don’t hang up,” the dispatcher instructed firmly.
